Burned and Blinded
by Mellie DeHiraeth
Summary: Not updated regularly. Some interesting Drarry concepts mixed in with 'nobody knows I'm Harry Potter' trope. Lots of fun to mess with. Rating potentially subject to increase, but unlikely.


LATEST UPDATE 2017-01-04

NEXT UPDATE SCHEDULED 2017-02-01

Any questions? Message me!

Reviews are always appreciated!

* * *

CHAPTER 1 - Fiendfyre

Harry James Potter woke up to the sound of magic.

Magic, of course, does not have a sound, but he could feel the buzz in the air, the tingling of the skin that being near magic gave him. It was an easy, under-the-skin feeling that he barely noticed, but considering he was at the Dursleys and it was a month before his thirteenth birthday, he felt he had the right to be alarmed.

Leaving his room quickly, he dashed down the steps and grabbed Vernon's keys, opening the door and racing out. He defended his eyes against the glare of crackling fire as he quickly realized what was happening.

Magical fire darted over the roof of the house just across the road and down a little, the yells and calls of concern from the neighbours ringing out and interrupting an otherwise-silent night. He dashed towards the place, unable to think of what to do but otherwise hopeful that he could somehow help out.

In hindsight, he supposed nobody expected a thirteen-year-old boy to heroically dash into a blazing, wizard-made fire and rescue people. Harry James Potter, of course, expected _himself_ to, mostly because he'd lived the last two years with people simultaneously protecting him with extreme measures and expecting him to kill Dark Lords, overgrown snakes, and wayward professors. For that reason, Harry ran headfirst into the fire, which was a very stupid, very brave, and ultimately very Gryffindor thing to do.

Fire felt like ice. Or at least, it did once the burn left his nerves, or however what was happening was happening. He didn't know how long he spent in the fire and on fire, but he knew that each time the fire licked at his body new sounds and feelings of pain emerged, an endless, tireless pain that travelled over his face and down his side as he dove away from it. Despite this, he caught sight of a little girl in the corner.

When it struck him that this was all he could save, he swung her up along his side which was _not_ on fire, raced towards the nearest window, and jumped through. What remained of his clothes were ripped with a muffled tearing sound as he hit the ground before he could prepare himself, his body finally stopping with a dull _thump_ that made the world suddenly go quiet, the crackling blaze behind him ignored.

Getting up again, he smiled as the last of the fire on his skin was doused and fought off by his natural magic and began struggling to his feet and stumbling away from the fire, the soft sobs of the little girl in his arms the source of strength he needed to keep going. He didn't even react as he saw a few people apparate onto the lawn in front of him; he could barely see, he doubted he'd even brought his glasses with him, but he could just about see the familiar colours of the uniforms he recognized as ministry standard. A blond boy raced up to him, and he barely had time to question anything before reaching out to him, handing the girl off to him with a relieved sigh.

His job was done. He could rest.

Harry closed his eyes, and the world went black.

* * *

"Father, help!" Draco called, immediately wincing at the childishness of the statement but ignoring it in favour of keeping his eyes on the two muggles that had somehow escaped the fire. He briefly wondered how they'd survived; after all, they did not have ready access to water via the _aguamenti_ spell. He ignored it in favour of handing the small girl off to his flustered father - how strange it was for his father to be flustered - and reached out to grab the boy muggle who had handed the girl to him before promptly fainting.

The moment he touched the boy he felt a ripple of magic connect them, and he let out a choked gasp as he felt his magic pour into the muggle boy immediately, the smouldering burns healing themselves automatically. For a rather dull moment he considered the possibility that the muggle was stealing his magic, but before he could follow that notion the magic slowed enough that his core could keep up, and finally the strain on his body relaxed, though he felt like if he tried any menial labour he'd collapse within an hour.

He gagged at the gruesome sight. Never had he seen the aftermath of a fire quite like this; while before he'd only seen minor burns, this was major; It would scar eternally. It ripped up and down the right side of the boy's face; it appeared as if his eye had been melted over entirely. They'd have to spell it out if he was to live comfortably. His other eye was screwed shut, and the entire right side of his body had burns. His clothes had been meager, and ultimately unhelpful armor; they were burned away almost completely. He was barely decent.

The girl, strangely, was practically unscathed, and Draco considered the very Gryffindorish thought that the boy had protected the muggle girl with his body. It would certainly make logic out of the miracle survivors, if only a little bit.

The girl in his father's hands was given to an emergency officer who cast a barrage of spells, causing her to forget ever seeing them and sleep peacefully as she was taken by another man in muggle clothing, who raced over to the crowd of muggles at the other end of the house as a pair of on-duty aurors apparated in and began immediately scanning the area of the house.

"We've got to leave, we're not supposed to be here," his father said briefly, taking Draco's hand. "Stay still while I get us out of here."

Draco didn't know what possessed him. He supposed it was the strangely informal and rugged way his father was speaking that made it sound sane. "Father, the muggle boy, he's hurt!"

Hah. Like that was supposed to explain anything.

Apparently it did. "Grab his hand and stay still, you-" He grumbled some vague half-hearted insult, and before long the world was melting around them, and the familiar feel of apparition gripped his body.

* * *

When his body returned to consciousness, Harry had the luck of hearing an explanation of everything that had happened to him.

"The perpetrators were caught. Wannabe followers of the Dark Lord, giving the muggles 'what they deserved'... damages are heavy but reparable. Spell used was Fiendfyre, which rebounded on the caster, the bastard. Good riddance." The huff of what Harry assumed was an auror, and the familiar chill of a voice he recognized.

"I see," Lucius Malfoy said noncommittally. "And the… muggle boy, Healer Joneson?" Harry could _feel_ Lucius's eye twitch as he uttered the word 'muggle', as if speaking of a dog's doings.

"He'll recover, thanks to your son," Joneson said, shocking Harry into silence. "His body's sustained loads of burns, and I can't safely remove the scars of them all, unfortunately. His eyes are non-functional, but we're looking into a magical eye for him, considering he's bonded to your son."

Harry tested his non-existent eyes with a silent screech of unhappiness. How was he supposed to kill the dark lord _blind?!_ Heck, he didn't even know how he'd eat breakfast blind! Wait, no, magical eyes… he soothed his nerves and listened.

"Yes, about that…" Lucius drawled. At least Harry knew where Draco's grumbling tones came from. "I don't suppose there are any ill effects of having a human familiar? After all, it's rather… unheard of to have one that is of equal or superior intelligence."

Joneson hummed thoughtfully. "I don't believe so, no," He nodded. "It should be suitable. Bonds are formed by a bridge between the magical cores of two beings, so the only difference is that the muggle will be able to store about the same amount of magic a wizard can. Since he's a muggle, of course, his body won't accept the magic, so Draco should have no problem accessing the magic as if it were his own."

This alarmed Harry even more than the loss of his eyes. He didn't want to think what would happen if Draco tried to use his magic… although, considering how his life went, it wasn't an unwelcome change compared to the other things in his life. It was far more enticing than being attacked by wayward professors, ripped souls, or basilisks, no matter how much he wished he wasn't bonded to Malfoy. It would be annoying, and at worst painful, but he'd dealt with being beaten by the Dursleys before his Hogwarts letters. He could deal with Draco… and if he hurt Harry, he could pull Draco's magic.

 _Wait…. MUGGLE?_

He tested his magic gently; no, it was _definitely_ still there, thank goodness. He felt the magical bond, which reached out of the room and into another, probably where Draco was.

"He's waking up," the Healer said suddenly, bringing Harry to his senses. As the tingle of diagnostic spells trickled over him, he suddenly had a very stupid and very ridiculous idea.

One; nobody here recognized him, meaning his facial disfigurement was great enough that nobody recognized him as Harry Potter.

Two: being Draco's familiar meant he'd get to go to Hogwarts.

Three; Ditto to above also means that he would get to escape the pure torture that was his tireless life of running between an abusive family and the world's expectations. Since nobody recognized him as even being _magical_ , he highly doubted Ol' Voldy would have a rat's ass of a chance at finding him. And anyways, no-one would believe that he willingly became Draco's familiar.

It was a rather easy decision; he'd roll with it in a bid for freedom. Maybe he could fake amnesia?

Just then, he heard Draco's voice calling through the house. "Father? May I see him now?"

"Quiet, son, he's just waking up," Lucius scolded, "but yes, you may. Enter quietly." The steps approached and finally slowed at the door, and Harry felt the solid, familiar magic rolling off of the person next to him, standing stiffly at the edge of the bed.

"Do you know what happened to you?"

Harry chose his words carefully. "I was running… from the fire. There was a girl... Is she safe?"

Draco snorted at him. He could imagine Draco's expression now. "Yes, Alice is fine. I'm sure you'll be interested to know that your eyes have literally melted out of your face."

Harry gulped. "I know. The… healer? Joneson? Said so. What's all this about a familiar bond? Sounds like something from a fantasy novel."

Draco's magic smirked. He didn't know how else to describe it; the strange magical signature literally felt like it was smirking with a knowing smugness, something so _Draco_ it made Harry want to roll his non-existent eyes. "Here's an answer; I'm a wizard. You, somehow, have become my familiar, which means you're basically a storage space for magic. I'm looking forward to being able to manage stronger spells." Harry faked a light gasp.

"Prove it," he breathed, eager to see how Draco would go about it.

There was a sudden pulse in the bond, and Harry felt a surge of magic being pushed into his body. He breathed in sharply, then settled, finally resting when his body accepted the new magic. It was a bit different from his own magic - separate somehow - but it was proof enough.

"Alright, I believe you." Harry said quietly, a stray hand tracing a line over his neck as he tenderly felt the alien magic inside his body. It felt so _strange_ , yet somehow… it was alright.

"Good," Draco said firmly. "Now. You do understand this means you'll have to be fully obliviated from the muggle world?"

"Muggle?" Harry tried, feeling rather sheepish. "Obliviated?"

"We'll have to make non-magic folk forget about you existing," Joneson explained gently.

Harry gulped fearfully. "There's… no need. I have no family; the place I've been staying is so big, the homeless come and go freely, people will quickly forget about me. I honestly didn't expect to survive the fire when I went in; I figured I'd die within the hour." He waited with bated breath as the information was absorbed.

"Alright," Lucius said at last. "That saves the ministry some heavy work. Healer Joneson, please patch him up while Draco and I go and get him a magical eye."

"Magical eye?" Harry parroted out of genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, so you can see," Draco responded nonchalantly. "You aren't going to see much without any eyes, right? And anyways, you'll be able to see magical signatures, too. You'd better tell me what mine looks like."

Harry nodded numbly. "Alright."

"Colour preference?" Draco inquired idly as he walked to the door.

"Your choice," Harry replied softly, smiling to himself. "I'm _your_ familiar."

"I suppose you are," Draco smirked back, before leaving Joneson to work on Harry in silence.

* * *

It was three days later that Draco walked into the room and Healer Joneson returned, warning Harry only a few moments before he was knocked out again to have the eye placed in his unmelted socket.

His other eye had been sealed and patched up to just be smooth skin, and while his burn scars remained, they had been soothed and magicked sufficiently that he probably didn't look like walking death any more. He assumed any old scars he had on his body were burned away; he silently thanked lady luck for burning away the infernal scar on his forehead. He'd laid there for a long time, and they _still_ didn't know who he was; he hoped that it would stay this way, just him being a random muggle homeless who happened to respond positively to Draco.

He lifted his eyelids an hour or so later and saw the world in a new light. While his sight felt a little bit like looking through a tunnel or at a television screen, it was functional, and he could see Draco and Joneson and Lucius and Narcissa standing over him. Taking a deep breath, he said, "I can see. Thank you."

He rose to a sitting position and stared at Draco for a good few moments. The aura around him was a pure snowy white, which reflected against other lights in _rainbows._ He stared a bit more at the awe-striking sight before moving on to the others.

Apparently Draco's snowy rainbows were unique; Lucius's magical core was tinged a sort of stormy greyish-blue that was tainted with blacks around the edges as it was directed around him. He was casting spells, removing Harry's dizziness and adding a wakefulness spell for good measure.

Narcissa's magic reminded him of a blooming flower. It wasn't like Draco's or Lucius's at all. Hers was a beige-coloured core tinted with reds and yellows, but it flowed out in petals, which was why when he first saw it he was reminded not of fire but of roses.

Joneson was unremarkable, but his magic flow was a gentle shine that poured out of his wand and strengthened Harry's frail body. He cast Joneson a smile before ignoring what he was seeing anew for what he could see before.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "I'm sorry you had to go to such efforts for me. If there's anything I can do…" He trailed off. He wasn't used to making deals like this.

"Don't worry about it," Draco soothed quickly, a strange act considering who was talking and their history. "We've pulled you from the muggle world. We can at least make you comfortable."

Harry announced solemnly, "It's me who will owe you." and it was true. Here before him was his chance to escape the life of Harry Potter.

"Fine," Draco caved, "but don't expect me to start asking you to risk your neck." Harry shot him a bright smile and swung his legs over the side of the bed carefully, examining the room briefly before getting to his feet.

"Anything I should know?" Harry inquired, and Draco looked incredibly pensive for a moment.

He nodded. "Lots. I suppose I'll be spending the next few days getting you acclimated, and by that time we'll be off to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" Harry repeated in a scandalized tone, snickering beneath his mask of horror. "What sort of place is named after a pig's skin disease?"

Draco laughed, and for once Harry felt it was not out of obligation but because he was legitimately funny.

* * *

"So.. what does my aura look like?" Draco asked as they sat in the library. Harry was quickly devouring books, eager to get a review on the magic he'd been so out-of-touch with all summer long.

"Hmm?" Harry paused, then remembered Draco's question. "Oh, it's beautiful, very unique."

"Go on," Draco leaned forward.

"Well, it isn't really like either of your parent's…" Harry hedged. "Narcissa is your mother, right? Hers is like a fiery flower, blooming out in petals. Your father's looks like a stormy sea, and his spells are tinged with an inky black, and yours is… well. It's sort of…" he bit his lip, thinking about how to describe it.

Draco's face fell. "It isn't pink, is it?"

"No, no, not at all," Harry assured him quickly. "It's not masculine, though, if that's what you're asking. I guess… it's like snow. Pure, white snow that melts into water tinted with rainbows."

"Rainbows?" Draco repeated incredulously. "You mean to tell me my spells look like _rainbows?"_

"I'm sorry?" Harry replied nervously. "It's true. They're beautiful."

Draco sighed dramatically. "At least I'm as beautiful on the inside as I am on the outside," he announced forlornly, flicking his hair. "Thank you…" he paused. "I never asked your name."

"It doesn't matter." Harry told him. "I don't mind what you call me."

Draco stared at Harry for a long moment. "I'll wait on it," he decided. "Until there's a defining quality…"

Harry nodded mutely and returned to his reading, quickly being absorbed back into an enthralling tale about the discovery of the first faerie.

He was shocked out of his book when Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up on his feet.

"What?" Harry sputtered, panicking. "What are you-?"

"Oberon," Draco said clearly, smirking at Harry's small stature. "It fits."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Does it mean something?"

"He was king of the faeries," Draco explained very seriously. "He was cursed to be really short."

Harry groaned.

(A/N: He forgot to mention that he was subsequently blessed to be beautiful. ~_^)

* * *

It was a week later that Harry was first taken out into the magical world.

He and Draco had fallen into a comfortable companionship, strange as it was. After reading up on 'pureblood manners', at the insistence of Draco and his family, he realized he probably looked like a dolt. Not that Draco wasn't, but it probably looked bad from both sides - two idiots shouting at each other.

As Harry delicately worked a brush through his hair ("You've _got_ to tame that beast on your head," Draco proclaimed,) in an attempt to get rid of the peskier knots, he commented, "So… about your rival." It was always 'rival'; saying 'Harry' would just be too strange.

"Yes, Oberon? What about him?" Draco responded idly from his mirror. Harry had nearly gagged at the sheer amount of gel he used in it, so Draco had obliged by trying a new hairstyle. Harry figured it fit him better. He didn't look like… well, a _girl_ any more.

"What did you say to him?" He inquired, frowning at a little tugging bit in a curl behind his left ear. "I mean, before you offered your friendship?"

Draco looked at the edge of protest, but sighed and gave it some thought. "Well, I first met him in Madam Malkins," he said airily, "where I was chatting to him about my family, since we were both alone. Then this great, hulking man showed up in the window and I began to tell him about Hagrid, and I was about to go on about how Dumbledore practically forced him into slavery when he left." He frowned. "You think it was the comments about Hagrid? I don't like him, but maybe it came across as mean?"

"I think it was both," Harry told him honestly, sighing in relief as one of the final knots fell away. "Think about it. You were boasting about your wonderful family, and he's sitting there, remembering how his parents died before he could even remember their faces. He probably thought you were mocking him."

Draco paused. "You might be right," he murmured unhappily. "And then I… insulted the Weasel to get him to leave before he badmouthed me - and offered my friendship. I must have looked like I was _trying_ to insult him. Dear Merlin."

"Weren't your rival and the Weasel friends?" Harry commented. "I don't know about you… but when you lose your family, your friends replace them. He was probably highly offended."

Draco groaned. "I _knew_ there was a reason he refused me," he mumbled. "I… I honestly thought he was trying to mock me. So many people _saw_ that, saw him smart-mouthing Draco Malfoy, I just totally ignored _why_ in favour of being dignified while the entirety of the student body gave me odd looks."

Harry sighed softly. "Well, now you know. Come on, you can show me around Diagon Alley. There's no point dwelling on it."

He got up and followed Draco as they left.

* * *

"Oberon and I figured it out, father," Draco said softly as they walked through the manor. Lucius raised a delicate eyebrow but said nothing. "About the boy-who-lived, and why he refused my friendship."

"This _again?_ " Lucius expressed, immediately taking on a stressed expression. "Draco, I thought I told you to give up on this. How many times is it now that you've brought this up? Honestly, Narcissa was beginning to think you were writing more about Potter than about yourself."

Harry politely covered his mouth to prevent himself breaking down into a giggling fit.

"But I actually figured it out this time!" Draco whined. "I… well, it was when I was in Madame Malkins, and-"

"Yes, we'll go there so you can sit in the seat he sat in and grumble," Lucius interrupted. "Now shut up about Potter, for Merlin's sake, and act like a Malfoy, not a whining child."

"Yes father," Draco replied quickly.

"To be fair," Harry said quietly, "I was the one who brought it up. Sorry, sir."

" _Don't_ do it again," Lucius scolded desperately. "I can't remember how many times I've had this conversation."

They reached the floo, and Harry gripped Draco's hand, stepping into the fireplace with him.

His thoughts trailed to how nobody had actually held his hand like that since Hagrid, before he was distracted by the burst of green flames.

* * *

"That there, that's where I met my rival," Draco explained, pointing. "We'll get you fitted soon, come on, we'll get you an owl afterwards."

"An owl?" Harry pronounced, before being dragged in by the wrist and pushed into a chair.

"Yes. Full wardrobe, please," Draco said smugly, watching as three women immediately pounced. Harry shot him a displeased look before sitting still and waiting for the pricking sensations to end.

* * *

"So then Blaise was taken directly to Dumbledore, of course," Draco smirked, sitting on the chair next to Harry as they fitted the final set of clothes. While Harry did, admittedly, like green, silver and black, he very much preferred other colours, and so it was a relief when the stray blue or purple found its way into the elaborate sets of clothes. "I believe that's the most embarrassed he's ever been."

"I can't say I blame him," Harry commented, sighing in relief as the final set fell away and folded itself. "Right, what's next?"

"We're getting you your own owl," Draco explained. "Both because I think you'll want a companion other than me and because otherwise people will accuse me of enslaving you or whatever."

Harry hummed in idle agreement as he watched the clothes disappear with a _snap,_ likely to the Malfoy Manor. He followed Draco out of the shop and was grabbed by the wrist again, pulled away to the Magical Menagerie.

Walking in there again for the first time in a while, Harry immediately found himself captured by magical auras. It was a literal rainbow of cores, though none were quite like Draco's, with the snow and the rainbows. There were lots of different magics, and they differentiated in how they expressed themselves, from the petal-esque blooms to the rolling wave-like magic. He turned and froze at a sight he didn't think he'd see again.

"He's been sick," Ron explained, handing the rat - Scabbers - off to the lady at the counter. But no; it _couldn't_ be a rat. A rat didn't have an aura that _powerful_. It was packed in, jagged and rocky, and the free magic was coursing desperately over the rat's fur.

He took a moment to observe Hermione and Ron. Ron's magic was, strangely enough, Slytherin green; it shimmered like floo powder, and it moved about like someone was pouring wind into an hourglass. Hermione's was different; her magic was a calm lavender, and seemed not to express itself strongly, remaining quietly still in her core.

"Draco," Harry hissed, "There's something terribly wrong with that rat."

"What?" Draco whispered back. "I don't understand, Oberon, it's just a rat."

Harry shook his head. "It can't be _just a rat,_ it's got the magical signature of a human being! And furthermore, all its spare magic is being used! Like it's casting a spell!" He turned. "Is there some way it could be a human?"

"It could be an animagi," Draco paled. "I don't like this. I feel obligated to tell him, even if it is the Weasel we're talking about. What should I do?"

"I'll talk to him," Harry soothed. "You can pretend you don't know me if you're uncomfortable."

"Alright." Draco gulped. "I'll be over here, looking at the snakes." He shifted to the coiling serpents and Harry walked calmly up to his friends, reminding himself that they didn't know him.

He supposed that his friendships were the sacrifice he made for a calm, loved life. While he knew he'd make the decision to leave again if it were offered then and there, he would never abandon these people. They were the ones who cradled the tattered remains of his person and restored him, after all.

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted, walking up to the duo at the desk. "This… rat. Is he really a rat?"

"Of course he is!" Ron seethed. "What, are you mocking me for not having an owl or whatever? Scabbers is a fine familiar!"

"No," Harry breathed, frowning and ignoring Ron's outburst. "It's magical signature does not match that of a rat."

He saw the creature visibly quiver in fear, and his eye narrowed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione inquired seriously. "Is he transfigured?"

"I would assume as much," Harry agreed. Gripping the rat gently around the middle, ignoring the gobsmacked expression of the receptionist, he placed it on the ground and held it by the neck, quickly thinking about how to go about this.

Draco walked up behind them. "What's this, Oberon?" he inquired haughtily, Harry smirking privately at the act. "A rat?"

"Unidentified magical signature," Harry replied. "Mind checking for me?" Draco rolled his eyes but complied, pulling out his wand daintily and pointing it directly at the terrified creature.

"Oberon, brace yourself," he whispered, before muttering a few quick words. A burst of blue light, and a fierce tug at Harry's core, and the rat began to squirm.

"Everyone back away!" Draco called, even as he levelled his wand and pulled on Harry's magic. Harry took a soothing breath and focused on letting it happen, even as he felt his legs tingle from the loss of the magic under his skin, and shut the door tightly, guarding it as the rat turned into a man.

"I can explain!" he cried, his hands shaking. The man looked rather seedy and Harry curled a lip in distaste as he began to rant.

"Veritaserum will decide," Harry announced seriously. "Just shut up before you make it worse and let authorities cart you off…"

"Peter," he breathed, "Peter Pettigrew. I escaped Sirius-"

"I don't care," Harry replied disdainfully. "Draco, what are we going to do with this guy?"

"I'll bind him," he said resentfully. There was another flash of his wand and a muttered "Incarcerous," and the man was bound in ropes.

"Stay here and watch him, Oberon," Draco glared at the man, "This guy has a lot to answer for. I need to floo father." He walked off primly, leaving Harry with Ron, Hermione, and a rather pale-looking woman who seemed ready to faint.

"Merlin, he _slept_ in my _room!_ " Ron cried, paling quickly. "For once, I think I agree with Malfoy!"

Hermione looked strangely pensive, her hand at the ready to pull on her wand when and if she needed it. "While we wait for Malfoy to get back," she commented, "I suppose we can introduce ourselves. I'm Hermione Granger, and this is Ron Weasley. Who are you?"

"Oberon," Harry replied, his eyes never leaving the bound and terrified form of Peter Pettigrew. "You think he needs more bindings?"

"It's a good idea," Hermione agreed. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

Harry winced. "Thank you." He glared at the unmoving, bound body and wondered again why his life was never normal. "Hermione Granger, was it? I appreciate the help."

"Oh, it was nothing," she replied modestly. "You're Oberon? How do you know Malfoy?"

"Unusual circumstances," Harry replied vaguely. "It will likely be explained at the sorting."

Ron huffed. "Bet he bound you somehow, little bugger thinks he deserves the best," he hissed. "You a muggleborn?"

"Just a muggle," Harry replied quietly. "Did you know that you're a seer?"

"Say _what?_ " Ron frowned, raising an eyebrow. "You're a muggle? Huh, didn't think Malfoy had it in him to even consider _talking_ to muggles. Why'd he even get close enough to muggles for whatever happened?"

"The explanation he gave me was rather vague," Harry hedged, "but I believe there is indeed a magical bond between us."

"Knew it," Ron hissed.

Hermione, however, was more interested in the other comment. "Oberon, what do you mean Ron's a seer?"

"His magic flared," Harry explained, pointing at his eye. "Draco gave me this so I could see magical signatures."

"Really? What do they look like?" Hermione inquired eagerly.

Harry paused. "Yours is somewhat gaseous and the colour of lavender," he explained. "It's rather calm, for magic. It doesn't flare with your emotions the way others do." She nodded happily, absorbing the information readily. He fondly considered what she'd do with that information; knowing the viscosity, temperament and even colour of one's magic came in handy for some of the more subliminal and idle magics. She'd be buried in books on the subject before the day was through.

"And mine?" Ron inquired, not one to be left out.

Harry smirked internally. "Green, like floo powder. Like a bunch of sand in an hourglass, being blown around." Ron let out a wail of despair as Hermione laughed.

At that moment, Draco marched proudly through the floo, his father in tow. The older blonde looked rather exasperated, but his expression snapped to a disdainful, uninterested gaze the moment he confirmed the identities of his company. With a grand swish, he levitated Pettigrew, bowed and walked out again.

"Don't forget to buy Oberon's pet," he called dismissively as the floo flared and he and Pettigrew disappeared in a burst of green fire. Draco nodded to Oberon and the pair walked over to the snakes.

Harry ignored Ron and Hermione's ensuing discussion in order to listen in on the snakes. They were all chatting rather quietly to each other, commenting on the 'rat-man' and he took particular notice of a few that expressed their respect for the swift and deft way the humans had contained him.

"See one you like?" Draco inquired hopefully. "You can have snakes channel magic, you know, brilliant skill. Magical snakes are very intelligent, they could protect you." Harry stared at him for a moment before nodding.

"It sounds like an incredibly useful skill," he replied fondly, smiling at the snakes. Contrary to popular belief, Harry really liked snakes, even if most of them were out for his blood. A few of them hissed appreciatively, coiling around to look at the newcomers.

"If you want one, I can get you one along with your owl," Draco offered. "You'd have to take care of it, though."

Harry nodded, still looking at the snakes. "I believe I will get one, if that's okay." Draco puffed up in approval, and for a while they merely browsed, scanning the snakes and cats and birds that lined the walls of the shop.

" _Idiot wizzard,"_ one hissed, getting Harry's attention. " _Behaving as the sssuperior when it is he who isss the inferior."_

Harry glanced around and approached the cobra slowly. It coiled around itself in the confined space, eying Harry with two beady black eyes.

" _What do you want, ssspeaker? Do you ssseek a more competent and ressspectful familiar?"_ It inquired, raising its head to observe him.

" _I am in hiding; Draco iss part of my dissguise,"_ Harry explained quickly. " _I am hoping to take up care for one of the sssnakes here. I am currently hiding asss a non-magical and familiar."_

At this statement, a few snakes turned in curiosity, but most interested was the cobra he'd addressed. " _I would be willing,"_ she stated, tilting her head. " _Your life sssounds an exciting one, at leasst. It is rare that we ssserpentss find a ssspeaker."_

Harry nodded, holding a hand to his mouth in a signal for silence. "Draco?" The blond turned from observing the owls to raise a delicate eyebrow. Harry pointed to the cobra, who raised her crest, and soon they were leaving the shop, the four-foot snake curling along Harry's arm, his other one occupied with a cage which held a milky eagle owl, which he named Puck, despite Draco offering him a long list of 'pureblood' names. He decided not to explain that it was the name of a character in the muggle copy of _A Midsummer Night's Dream._

* * *

"Wake up, Oberon, we're going to Hogwarts!"

Despite being a wizard, those words were still among the most magical in his vocabulary. He shot to his feet immediately, throwing on his robes as quickly as he could. Puck had already flown to Hogwarts ahead of time; once he'd calmed down a little from Draco yelling through the door, he slowed to brush his hair and adjust his hogwarts tie, which was set automatically at a silvery-green.

Dumbledore had been surprisingly accommodating to Draco and Harry's situation. An extra bed had been placed in Draco's dorm; Harry, as Oberon, would also be allowed to attend Draco's classes if he so desired, though it was by no means necessary. He'd even overlooked the rules and allowed Harry to bring his cobra; he'd given her the English name Selene, considering her Parseltongue name wasn't something you could pronounce in English.

Said snake slithered up his arm and hung heavily on his wrist. " _You are too thin, wizzard,"_ she commented disapprovingly. " _You ssshould eat more."_

" _Oncce I am at Hogwartss, I will be having a feasst every day,"_ Harry replied idly, adjusting his magical eye. " _Let uss join Draco downsstairss."_

Selene bobbed her head in agreement and coiled back up his arm, adjusting herself over him within his robes so both were comfortable. They'd talked and decided it would be best that she did not reveal herself unnecessarily, since she was a rather intimidating specimen. Harry paused to feel for where Draco was, following the strand of magic down the stairs and into the dining room.

"Come on, we've got to hurry so we don't miss the train!" Draco cried, too excited to bother being his usual polite and uppity self. Oberon nodded, quickly joining them and eating as quickly as he could while remaining polite. Morning routine over, the two boys raced to the floo and mumbled threats as Narcissa checked them over.

"Oberon, the books you were reading have already been taken to your room in Hogwarts," she informed him gently. "Remember; as his familiar, keeping Draco safe is your first priority."

"Yes ma'am," Harry replied. "I won't disappoint."

Draco groaned. "When will you stop telling him that? I don't need a nanny, Mum."

Harry snickered, listening to Narcissa's ensuing tirade for two minutes before clearing his throat and saying, "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Oh, yes," Narcissa replied absently. "Here's the powder, Draco, hurry along now and remember to write us. And if I get one more letter about Harry Potter-"

"BYE MUM!" Draco interrupted, grabbing Harry's hand and pulling them both in. Dropping the powder, he cried, "Platform Nine and three quarters!" before Narcissa could so much as protest.

As the green flames died away, Lucius commented, "Our Draco seems rather attached to his muggle, doesn't he? He even went to wake him up this morning."

"Aren't we all attached to our familiars?" Narcissa replied, drifting gracefully into a chair across from her husband. "I'm sure they'll be fine, Lucius. He's probably just happy to have a confidant he can trust fully. Oberon loves him; he'd never reveal Draco's secrets. You know Oberon's occlumency is strong."

"Too strong," Lucius huffed irritably.

"It protects Draco as well," Narcissa added, smiling. Really, she'd already won the argument; they didn't say it, though.

* * *

CHAPTER 2 - Hogwarts

* * *

Harry stepped out of the floo and stumbled, leaning on Draco for support momentarily before snapping upright and brushing himself off. He pointedly ignored Draco's snickering and smiled gently at the Hogwarts train, the horn sounding reminding him that he was going home.

"Draco!" The pair turned, and waiting for them were Crabbe and Goyle. Immediately Harry felt Draco tense; it was well hidden, but now that he'd spent time with Draco he could easily tell.

 _Strange,_ Harry thought. _I thought Draco was friends with those two._

"Crabbe, Goyle," Draco replied tightly, nodding to each. He walked off, Harry following him as they walked to the train. They were immediately flanked by the large pair.

"We taunting Scarhead again?" Goyle asked eagerly, chortling.

"Yeah, where we sitting?" Crabbe inquired. "And who's the deformed squirt?"

"The _squirt_ ," Draco hissed, "is Oberon. Be polite." Harry shot him an appreciative smile and sidled between Draco and the determined duo of Slytherins. He may not be able to confront them effectively, but if they got touchy-feely he could buy Draco some time. They boarded and quickly found a vacant booth, filing in and stowing away their bags.

Draco sat by the window, staring out idly as Crabbe and Goyle began a rather dry monologue about their summer. Harry watched the three for a while before turning away and running through some of the books he'd read the day before in his head.

A lack of anything to do outside of mandatory 'pureblood lessons' and access to a huge, exclusive library was turning Harry into an amateur Hermione. Mostly he'd stuck to the Hogwarts subjects, but he'd also taken the time to read up on some more obscure texts, mostly about occlumency and Care of Magical Creatures. He'd quietly befriended and then practiced occlumency with the house elves, since they were somehow already aware of his identity. Perhaps it was magical signature. Regardless, they were kind to him, and most were more than eager to help Harry learn occlumency.

A few minutes later the door opened to reveal a girl Harry recalled as Pansy Parkinson. Now that he thought about it, he'd seen her hanging out with Draco sometimes; he obviously didn't like her, however. He could tell because he felt Draco shudder right down to his magical core.

"Draco!" She whined, pushing Harry bodily off the seat and taking his place. "I missed yo- _mmrgh?!"_

"Shut _up,_ Parkinson!" Draco hissed, wand sliding back into its holster after the silencing spell. Getting to his feet, he said,. "Come on, Oberon, let's go see if we can find the trolley. I'll buy you a treacle tart if she's got any." Harry nodded numbly, rubbing his head as he felt the beginnings of a headache, and got to his feet, sending the three in the booth one last calculating look before dashing away to join Draco at his side.

"You don't like any of them, do you?" Harry inquired softly. Draco looked away deliberately, sighing. Harry took pity on him. "Come on, you promised me a treacle tart. I'll share one with you."

Draco shot him a gentle smile. "Alright, let's go." He picked up the pace as he caught sight of the elderly lady around the corner, pushing her trolley filled with sweets.

* * *

Harry managed to find a small corner they could hang out in, and breaking the tart in two, he handed one half off to Draco before munching eagerly on his own. It was finished all too quickly, and soon they were idling, neither particularly eager to return to the booth which had Parkinson, Goyle or Crabbe in it.

"I wonder what my rival's doing," Draco mused. "Usually by this time Crabbe and Goyle've dragged me over to mock him."

"We could always visit," Harry offered, though he knew they wouldn't find him.

Draco shrugged. "Why not? Let's go." He glanced back and forth, then walked off, Harry tailing him as they glanced into booths looking for Harry.

Then Harry broke into a cold sweat, turned, and fainted.

* * *

Draco glanced at Oberon fearfully, then turned back to the Dementor. His father had grilled him ruthlessly on these and how to defend against them. He took a deep breath and murmured an apology to Oberon before summoning up his standard 'happy memory'.

"Expecto Patronum!" he called, watching fearfully as a white gas poured from the tip of his wand. The dementor seemed to be laughing at his pitiful attempt to protect his familiar. For a dreaded moment he considered giving up, but his training kicked in again and he stood his ground.

Biting his lip, he reluctantly summoned up another memory. He hadn't allowed himself to consider it a happy memory yet; he was a little scared what people might think.

"Expecto Patronum," he breathed, closing his eyes.

" _Oberon? What are you doing?" Draco asked gruffly, rolling onto his side to face the muggle at the end of his bed. "It's late, you should be asleep."_

 _Oberon nodded, but stayed put. After a brief staring contest he caved and admitted, "you're so calm and readable when you're asleep. This is the only time I can see you without your mask."_

" _Mask?" Draco inquired incredulously., flipping over to face his familiar. "What mask?"_

" _Um… the one you use in front of other people," Oberon explained nervously. "Where you act like your dad."_

" _That's the real me," Draco protested feebly._

" _No," Oberon shook his head, his mouth twitching upwards in amusement. "The real you is different. The real you treats me like a person instead of an object."_

 _Draco paled. "Do I do that?"_

" _Treat me like an object?" Oberon repeated. "No. But you were the first to treat me like a person."_

The burst of power from his wand threw Draco bodily back onto the floor next to Oberon, who he noted fearfully was looking rather pale. Turning back to his patronus, he gasped.

Standing, sword in hand, with some disturbing ashes at its feet, was a huge fairy.

Draco decided he wasn't going to think about the implications of that.

Slowly he realized he wasn't actually capable of dispelling the Patronus. It stood guard, a knight prepared for battle, and Draco took the chance to summon what energy he had left and send some healing charms onto Oberon, who was beginning to stir.

"It's so cold," Oberon murmured quietly, squirming until Draco put a hand on Oberon's shoulder.

"Stay still!" Draco hissed, pulling his wand away. "I need to aim this right or it'll diagnose you wrong!" Oberon stilled obediently, and a few seconds later Draco cast a quick diagnostic spell and relaxed.

"Good, it's just an extreme reaction to Dementors," he breathed. "Can you stand? We need to get some chocolate in your system. It'll help."

Oberon said nothing, merely allowing Draco to pull him up and help him along, tugging on his hand to lead him forward. In his robes, Selene stirred and hissed in concern as she coiled around his shaking body, wrapping him up in an attempt to lessen the tremors. Soon they were walking through small pockets of students, past unsorted first years and curious second years, fourth years trying to order everyone around while prefects raced about trying to make sure everyone was alright.

"Oi, Malfoy, what happened to that bloke you got there?" A fellow Slytherin called, pulling Draco's attention away from his path.

"He had a bad reaction to a Dementor," Draco explained quickly. "Does anyone know where that trolley is? He needs chocolate, fast." A few murmurs, and a rather flustered prefect came through, quickly handing the pair a chocolate frog before racing off again.

Ripping it open, Draco snapped off a piece and shoved it into Oberon's hands. "Eat," he commanded, steeling himself to make sure the student body didn't think him soft.

Oberon nodded and gave him a bright, glowing smile. He nibbled on the edge at first, quiet and slow, but as the effects kicked in he began to eat in earnest, allowing Draco to hand off bits of chocolate to him as he slowly recovered.

It was a few minutes later that a rumpled teacher walked into the hall, two-thirds of the golden trio in tow. "Is everyone alright?" He asked tiredly, glancing between them. "You there, have you eaten any chocolate yet?"

"He has," Draco confirmed, pulling himself up to his full height. "Oberon had an extreme reaction, sir, which is why he's still shaking. Have you got any spare chocolate?"

"I do," the unknown professor confirmed, reaching into his bag and handing a substantial chocolate bar to Oberon. "Will you be alright, Oberon? I don't seem to recall you being on the student list."

"I'm not a student," Oberon murmured, nibbling the chocolate. Swallowing, he continued, "I was told it would be explained at the feast."

The man nodded amicably. "Well met, Oberon. Hopefully you'll feel better soon. I'm Professor Lupin, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He reached out, and Oberon shook Lupin's hand slowly, searching the man's face for hints. Other than being rather tired, however, he found nothing suspicious, and tentatively relaxed.

"Professor, there's more of them! We've blocked them off but they might break through the wards soon!" A prefect called.

Lupin raced off, leaving the students to stand fearfully around the compartments.

* * *

Draco was worried. Ever since the dementor, Oberon had been suspiciously quiet. He hadn't said anything while they were with Crabbe and Goyle, or Parkinson for that matter, but as they rode in their own chariot to Hogwarts, he decided to address the matter.

"Are you alright, Oberon?" He asked quietly, watching Oberon's reaction closely. The muggle boy tensed and turned away, but otherwise stayed stoically unreadable.

"I'm fine," he replied. "There's no need to worry."

Draco sighed. "You're not fine," he reiterated firmly. "You're being strangely quiet. Is everything happening too quickly? Should I organize for you to just stay in the dorms? What happened to make you retreat into yourself?"

Oberon gave him an unreadable look, turned away, and mumbled, "I failed."

"Failed what?" Draco inquired stubbornly. "You're not being clear.

"I failed to protect you!" Oberon hissed. "I'm your familiar! I should protect you, not the other way around!" With a childish huff he pulled up his legs and hid his face in his knees.

"Oberon, that's not the point," Draco soothed, quickly switching seats to sit next to Oberon. "You _couldn't_ have protected me from a Dementor. That's not how they work. I didn't expect you to protect me from the dementor."

"Oh." Oberon relaxed a little. "You were perfectly safe? There was nothing I could do to protect you?"

"You helped me as much as you could," Draco confirmed. "Without the magic reserves from you, I wouldn't have been able to manage a Patronus and protect myself. You did a great job."

Oberon peeked out from where he'd propped his head on his knees. "You mean it?"

Draco nodded, patting Oberon awkwardly on the back. "I mean it."

They fell into a peaceful silence.


End file.
